It's Caturday!

With a wolf thrown in for good measure....err, good menage. Available in the EXTRA CREAM box set at Changeling Press.

Zader’s Menagerie

The right wolf will make this cat howl at the moon.

Zader Montana is Sovereign Kind, a mountain lion infected with vampyre blood. He refuses to

embrace his undead half, the part of him that prowls the night looking for the she-wolf he desires. His problem -- she’s mated to the alpha of the wolf pack sharing his mountaintop.

Skye wants a taste of the cat who trails her every night. Convincing her mate to let her have a bite won’t be a big deal. The wolves are infected with the blood curse too, and they’re not finicky. Skye’s willing to be shared by both leaders as long as she gets what she wants.

Excerpt:

Skye had stayed in her wolf, enjoyed walking through the quiet forest. Where was Leaf, and why hadn’t he come to her? A slow throb started at the top of her head, made her eyes water, her nose run. What now?

A sound to her left caught her attention, but too late. A wiry cheetah came into view, spittle dripping from its fangs. Damn it to hell, she should have paid attention to her surroundings. Then she heard it—a howl that sounded like it came from the bowels of the earth. Leaf.

The big wolf flashed in front of her, tail high and swishing in agitation. Cat got your tongue, baby?

Leaf… She watched as the thick fur receded and he stood naked and tall in the form of his vampyre. His eyes glared red, his fangs were long and deadly.

“I’ve been with you the whole time.”

Pulling her wolf back, she stood beside him, her eyes pinned on the deadly transgressor in front of them. “I didn’t feel you.” But she felt Zader.

“Skye, I need to tell you something.”

Before he could finish the animal lunged, taking a swipe across Leaf’s chest. Blood bubbled from the wound which could kill even the strongest Kind. It was one reason she and Leaf should have remained in their animals.

“And the other reason is why we don’t use our Balkan cousins’ power to kill them. They deserve to die with respect because many of them were Reign warriors, and they are what we all should have remained. Animals, beasts, that should have lived and died in the wild.”

Zader’s eyes glared red from across the clearing before he released his cat. The tan fur barely covered his torso before his paws slapped the ground. He growled, circling the spotted cat.

Skye quickly changed into her wolf, prepared to fight alongside the cat that belonged to her, just as she had planned to do with Leaf. Before she reached Zader, he’d pounced on the wiry animal. Cries split the night as his cougar latched onto the thinner cat’s neck, delivering a vicious bite to the jugular. The cheetah fell to its side, gasping for air. With quickness unknown to normal animals, Zader’s beast ripped into the belly, disemboweling the transgressor and putting it out of its misery.

Leaf had slumped down against a tree trunk, blood flowing freely from the gouges. Skye’s wolf rushed to his side and licked at the wounds to heal them. He’d need strong blood, and she hadn’t taken any. Turning, she saw that Zader had regained his man form, and watched them from across the clearing. Taking her animal inside her body, she sat next to Leaf. “Zader?” He wouldn’t deny her, but would Leaf want a cat’s blood?

“Does he want to live?” He’d do anything to make Skye happy, even share his blood.

Leaf raised his head and stared at Zader. “Yes.” A small smile curved his lips, “Just don’t give me too much or I’ll kill you.”

She watched Zader move closer with a gleam in his eyes. “You’d die trying, bastard.” He stooped down and bared his wrist to Leaf. “Take too much and there might be a definite improvement in your scraggly ass.” His head tilted. “Who the hell holds a conversation while there’s a transgressor not ten feet away?”

Finished taking sustenance, Leaf sighed. “Was pretty damn stupid, huh?”

“We’ve both got something to live for now.”

“Guess you’re right.”

There was a new respect for each other in their words, but Skye sensed sadness in Leaf that she didn’t understand. And there was a definite difference in the way Zader acted. His eyes were filled with wildness, a certain abandonment. The scent of anger mixed with fear of the wolves was totally absent from the cat.

Zader did something she wouldn’t have thought him capable of—they were all clothed by him and transported to his house. Only a very strong vamp could perform that feat. How long had he been taking the blood again to have such strength?

Settling Leaf into a guest room, she and Zader went to rest by the fire. “You respect him now?”

“Always did. I respect, even more, that he would have done anything to save you.”

“He’s not as uncaring or mean as he sometimes appears.”

“I know that. As a leader, I understand we have to do things others don’t like.”

“There’s something… different about you.” She moved to his side, ran her fingers over his chest. “Something that makes me want you even more.” Zader removed their clothing with a thought.

“Something that makes you want me with your alpha under the same roof?”

“Maybe it’s because he’s here.” Continuing to stroke his face, play in his hair, she moved one hand to his crotch. His cock was swollen, the tip wet with pre-cum. “You seem stronger, more settled into the idea of being with us.”

“Skye, part of you is mine, and taking that doesn’t trample what belongs to Leaf.” His head bent, cool lips brushed her brow. “I’d never stop you from having anything you love.”

He nudged his tongue between her lips, delved deep into her mouth, proving how much he wanted her. She felt his hands cup her breasts, squeeze her taut, painfully engorged nipples. Skye arched into him, her body asking for more. Before she could say it, they were in his bed, Zader beneath her. Pulling her head away, she said, “Take me, take what’s yours.”

Skye gloried in the feel of his large hands caressing her back, covering her ass to nudge her closer. “That’s exactly what I intend to do.” His whispered words were rife with desire.

“She’s mine too, cat.”

Leaf!

Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out. - J. Hali Steele

WIP Wednesday

Meet Deacon...

                  SUBSIDE

The only one of his kind, Deacon recalls thousands of years existing yet he has no memory of why. He can’t profess to living in seclusion because he greedily pursues pleasure in arms of so many men, he never lacks companionship. All those arms, lips, and asses, none feed his true desire. Deacon yearns for someone to make in his own image by introducing them to a hunger so vile, they will detest him forever.

Father Merck Hallowell stands at a crossroad of conscience and faith. His convictions, no longer satisfying, leave him searching for reasons to persevere. Befriending a handsome but strange parishioner opens a doorway Merck longs to enter and explore. Discovering Deacon’s secret, he realizes not only his life hangs in balance—so does his soul!

Excerpt:

Shadows caused by clouds scuttling across the moon played over stained glass presenting faces of heavenly creatures which magically came to life as silhouettes waxed and waned.

Deacon wasn’t there to observe this—he came for Merck Hallowell.

Having watched the holy man circumvent alleyways and side streets nightly in an effort to recapture something he’d lost and would never find again, Deacon decided, by sharing his affliction, Merck was the only person capable of subsisting with him.

Deacon sustained his life on the blood of others and, frankly, he didn’t care anymore if they lived or died though, that decision was usually made in the process of draining them of their most prized possession.

Some deserved to die instantly but he made them suffer more by showing a kaleidoscope of deviousness they’d lived with but hid deep in scarred psyches. He let them see a thousand-year-old visage of bone with peeling gray, shriveled skin. Those not so bad, he left to bleed out on their own or, if they were lucky, some derelict would happen along and save them.

He’d viewed that scenario often where the person finding them rolled the individual taking everything of value including their shoes. Enduring on these mean streets was hard. Before absconding with everything scavenged, they’d call out loud enough to attract attention to the dying before scurrying away in the dark to gloat over new prizes.

Many more were nothing but sustenance and they remained none the wiser as not even a tell-tale mark indicated why they felt slightly fatigued. Perhaps this group didn’t deserve to know Deacon at all but they did. Recently, no feeling other than being satiated before they were drained saved their lives.

These reminded him of a verse he’d read, reread, and memorized wishing to find something he, himself, lost millennia ago—Deacons must be dignified, not double-tongued, not addicted to wine nor greedy for dishonest gain. They will hold the mystery of faith with a clear conscience. Let them also be tested first then let them serve as deacons if they prove themselves blameless.

The rest of the verse didn’t mean much as Deacon never appreciated lying with women so he’d surely never be the husband of one wife nor did he wish to bring children into his world. Neither did he recollect serving anyone well but himself.

Deacon desired remembering why he was at all, why he’d lost his graciousness and faith.

Could one as lost as the priest help him find what went missing?

Still not too late in the evening, Father Hallowell, whom Deacon had observed for enough months to know his schedule inside out, would be in residence.

Having enjoyed a leisurely meal of rare prime rib at a swanky restaurant not far away, Deacon waited outside the cathedral to see the moon begin its slide into the sky, to watch cloud play on glass and illuminate the cross stretching skyward.

He entered the church and moved quietly down the aisle to take a seat in the row second from the front. Big mistake. The woman in the first pew, who still believed in covering her head in God’s presence, left her neck bare where a frantic pulse beaconed him as if a bright light flashed off and on beneath her skin with each beat of her heart.

The door beside a thick pillar squeaked open and voices preceded Father Hallowell and another, much older, priest. Deacon spotted the elder man arrive two days ago, knew he’d be in residence for at least four days as he helped out until a new priest could be assigned to the parish.

I should have taken your blood. Had he ingested a tiny bit, he’d know more about Merck and what machinations went on in his mind even though the mystery intrigued him. What he was able to glean came from a slight brush of hands between both men at a nearby market.

That momentous day sealed Father Merck Hallowell’s fate.

Had he been a pure holy man, Deacon would not have given him a moment’s thought.

The men were unaware he could hear every word they whispered.

“We all have crises of faith, Merck. It is expected especially in a parish such as yours.”

“You mean one without enough funds to carry out needed programs?”

“You can’t save them all.”

“Why? They sit in wealth at many surrounding parishes. Can they not share their abundance?”

The older man stopped to scrutinize Merck. “You feel the more you save the more it will appease your own soul.” Twisting away, he continued. “Faith should be something we carry daily and not be measured by how many we rescue from their quagmire of…”

“Of hunger? Of too little housing and not nearly enough public services to assist them? Rescuing them from knowledge they’ll be poor and destitute until the day they die?”

“We pray for their souls. You also have sisters helping with your shelter which provides housing and meals for the more unfortunate.”

Merck no longer attempted to modify his voice. “Jesus Christ, you speak of no more than twenty when there are hundreds who go hungry with no roof over their head daily!”

“Father Hallowell!”

“Rest well, I must see to confession.”

“Are you not going to change?”

“No, I’m not.” A labored sigh rattled from his throat. “See yourself out in the morning as I’ll be tired from scouring streets tonight in hopes of bringing in those who suffer most.” Hands jammed in his pockets, Merck watched the man walk away.

Turning, he touched his throat, made sure his stiff collar remained straight in his black dress shirt. When he faced pews, Deacon noticed something about the man he’d not paid attention to before. Sans vestments he wore every Sunday and for midweek service, not wearing the wool jacket he donned at night, Merck’s body appeared athletically fit in a pair of well-worn black jeans. All those nights walking.

Dark lashes fluttered up and down over light brown eyes which didn’t seem to take note of three parishioners, including the woman in front of Deacon, walk out. Merck ran a hand through waves of chocolate brown hair before he stroked it over a day’s growth covering cheeks and chin giving accent to a thin mustache he always wore.

Shit! Broodingly beautiful.

Left alone with Father Hallowell, Deacon stood, brushed down the front of his black pinstriped jacket, he straightened his fashionable tie, and pinched razor-sharp creases in perfectly fitting trousers. He left the pew and headed to the confessional.

Tonight, Deacon planned to open Father Hallowell’s eyes.

Life is complicated, it’s loud, death arrives silently. – J. Hali Steele (from Twice the Burn)

WIP Wednesday

A little more of Nash Ichor --

WHERE HE GOES

An endless pursuit for one missing element.

Nash Ichor embraces every damn bit of what he is. Echoes of family, war, remorse and pain, even memories of Heaven—none of it belongs to him. He seizes it from every existence he steals. Taking their blood, or feeding his prey, the aftermath becomes part of Nash’s journey. Each day he seeks fresh, new encounters stalking one elusive experience… Life!

MacKena Temley has never been a girly girl which made her secretarial job for an engineering firm perfect. She spent more time ribbing men and delivering blue prints for various builds than sitting at a desk. An errant delivery one fateful day and Mac’s life is about to change forever.

Excerpt:

“Do you know anything about those blueprints I delivered to Switton?”

“No but after you left I heard the boss say he’d gotten a call and he wanted you to deliver them.”

“Me? Why?”

“When he asks, our bosses are gonna make sure it happens.” He, almost as if he were God, was how everyone in the shop referred to TEM’s owner; in fact, no one knew what TEM stood for. “Never met the head honcho but our leaders aren’t fearless when it comes to dealing with him.”

“Strange because the person at the address said they weren’t his and my car is broken down in front of his house. I left the prints. I’ll figure a way to handle it tomorrow since I have to get my truck anyway.”

“That won’t be necessary, I’ve handled it.”

Mac swiveled to stare into… Jesus, he had freaky eyes. Now they appeared sea green. “Look, Mr. Ichor, you can’t keep rescuing me because at some point you’ll exact payment. My bank account does not overflow with cash and I’m not giving you anything else.”

“Call me Nash, please, and why would I require payment? I feel responsible as a misdirected delivery to my home precipitated your troubles.”

Did lights blink? “That’s not your fault.”

“It’s unimportant. Your vehicle has already been towed to a service station and it will be delivered to your home upon completion. You should seriously consider a newer model of transportation.” He pivoted and took two strides before stopping. Over his shoulder, he said, “Twice you have misjudged me. I’m not sure the caliber of men you deal with, MacKena, but I would never expect the anything else you speak of.” His eyes smoldered. “That is a treasure to be earned.”

Manny snorted. “Dude, you could seriously give the rest of us bad reputations.” Amy elbowed him in the ribs.

“Gee, great advice but unless you’re buying, I’m riding old style.” She grinned. “I apologize for presuming but I like my independence. I’m not willing to trade it for any old thing. I do, however, appreciate your having Andrew bring me to AC.”

He faced the table but stayed where he was. “You should have accepted my offer of clothing.”

“What I’m wearing is fine, thank you.” Handsome as a Greek god, not lacking in wealth evidently, why was the man standing in a Mexican restaurant wasting time with her? He had to be dying in that damn coat. “You should rethink your attire. Aren’t you hot?”

“No.”

“Well you’re making me hot.” Though she wouldn’t complain about being his arm candy, MacKena never fit that mold. Too straightforward and mouthy. Hell, she might have one, maybe two suitable dresses in her closet to accompany someone like him if he asked her to dinner let alone anywhere fancier. MacKena didn’t mind; she liked who she was and she took care of herself.

“What is money worth if you can’t make someone happy?”

She picked up a note of sadness as eyes darkened. “Are you happy, Nash?” Asking questions, drawing this encounter out would only be torture as she wished she’d had the beer at his place. Gotten to know him. Why? He came off straitlaced and proper and that type never excited her. “I’m sorry, that’s not my business.” Unfortunately, Nash Ichor awakened something in MacKena.

“I would be happy if you’d accompany me on my boat for that beer I feel I owe you.” He shrugged. “I’d invite you to my home but my seating problem will not be solved for a bit.”

“Rather difficult to entertain with one chair even though it would seat two.”

“Perhaps not proper to say but,” A glint settled in his eyes. “My bedroom is fully furnished.”

“I bet it is.” Okay, not as prudish as she imagined.

Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out. - J. Hali Steele

Did You Meet Castle Briggs?

Can’t Touch This

Available at Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B076KDC9NV/

Rich alpha wolf shifter Castle Briggs can have any woman he wants with just the crook of his finger. Until he meets a human named Harlow Hardison. She makes it clear she’s had it with rich, overconfident jerks trying to own her. All she wants is a no-strings-attached good time with a man who isn’t afraid of her darker urges. Castle’s happy to dominate her in his special playroom, but he wants more than a kinky fling.

He’s going to have to do a lot more than crook his finger to get past Harlow’s fears and make her his forever.

A paranormal wolf shifter romance

EXCERPT:

How dare he act as if she already was his for the night? Harlow shifted on the stool as warmth continued to stir where the biker had touched her. Another minute staring into those weird eyes, she’d have done anything he asked and no way would that shit happen. Her first evening out, Harlow intended to enjoy the whole show, not just one act. Also, she didn’t like how they discussed women as though they were something to be passed between them.

The base of her spine thrummed to life, butterflies took flight in her stomach, and her breathing kicked up a notch the instant the one called Castle found her. With his hand placed low on her back again, he drew tiny circles with his fingertips as he whispered in her ear, “I’d find you in the eye of a hurricane, darlin’.”

“You should take your friend’s advice and seek one of the interested twenty.” Why in hell had she remembered those words? Lord, he was gorgeous and something snapped inside when he traced up her spine to the back of her neck. It was a feeling Harlow didn’t dare turn over in her mind and look at. Not yet.

“You’re interested.” He tilted her chin up and peered in her eyes while his free hand began an unhurried descent back to the tingling spot above her butt. “I smell it.”

“Mr. Briggs—”

“The formalities are over, honey.” He released Harlow but not before kissing her hard, long—and it shattered her goddamn world. “I’ll give you some time.”

The arrogant bastard walked away and left Harlow sitting there, mouth open and heart banging against her ribcage. “Time for what?” The words were lost among music and laughter in the club, which teemed with more beautiful people than she’d ever seen gathered in one place. She thought about leaving but decided not to let the night be a waste, nor to allow him to think he’d run her off. She would at least eat something before heading home. Signaling a server, Harlow placed an order and settled in to enjoy the atmosphere. Her salad arrived and she ate as much as she could.

She was ready for her second and last shot of gin when the bartender magically placed one in front of her. “Compliments, ma’am.”

She glanced past the server and spied Castle talking to a young woman who draped herself over his body. When she wrapped arms around his neck, he untangled them and eased her away. The downturn her lips took irritated Harlow. Why did women do that to themselves? Her mother had taught her to let the man take the lead, allow him to feel as though he’d laid claim, and then if you want him, grab hold with both hands and show the world he’s yours. Sliding the drink away, she told the bartender, “Tell the sender I’m not interested then bring my bill, please.” Her mother didn’t enlighten her on how to tell a man about her uncommon desires, desires most considered abnormal. Harlow’s marriage was proof the theory on letting a man take the lead did not work. Harlow yearned for a man who could…

“It’s paid.”

Harsh words tumbled through her lips at his untimely interruption. “I said get my bill.” A flush of heat suffused her cheeks when Harlow realized she continued to stare at the man across the bar.

“There’s no charge, ma’am.” He glanced over his shoulder and she assumed he looked at Castle Briggs.

Getting up, she skirted stools until she stood patiently waiting as another woman settled in Brigg’s lap. “How much do I owe you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Evidently you’re the owner since you parked in the reserved for owner spot.”

“So?”

“You’re all alike. You have money and you think you can do whatever you want.” Lord, why couldn’t she leave it alone. “What did my dinner cost?”

“Since I didn’t buy it, I couldn’t say.” Anger flashed in his eyes before he scoured the room. He motioned for the bartender who leaned over and whispered in Castle’s ear. He returned his attention to Harlow. “It’s on the house, and my apologies, it won’t happen again.”

Now she felt stupid as she wondered where the drink and money for her meal came from. All she could do was mumble, “Sorry,” before she turned to leave.

“Wait.”

“For what?” Lord, why the heck did she snap? Sweat gathered on Harlow’s back, eliciting a shiver beneath the overhead fan as she stared at Castle.

“Hatch?”

His friend sat with a blonde at a table across the aisle from the barstool Castle occupied. “Yeah, boss?”

“Make sure Ms. Hardison gets home safely.”

“I can take care of myself.”

A sardonic smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “I’ll take better care of you.”

“You can’t touch me.” A whole host of female patrons, including the one wiggling between his thighs looked as if they would scratch her eyes out and Harlow glared back giving as good as she got. “You have enough company.” She didn’t contemplate why that bothered her.

“Pull the claws in, I only want yours tonight.”

Why she felt pity for the women surrounding him Harlow couldn’t say, but damn if she was walking out without letting him know just what a lowlife cad she considered him. Why did she even care who came on to the bastard? She wouldn’t become one of them. It dawned on her it was exactly what she wanted, and it angered her, goaded her into acting unreasonable. Harlow flashed her brightest smile and enjoyed the fact his eyes reflected the idea he thought he had won. “It must be horrible to search for such a tiny prick every time you have to pee.”

“What the fuck did you say?”

“Surely a man with balls and a cock wouldn’t have to surround himself with so many adoring fans.”

A hush fell over the room.

Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out. - J. Hali Steele

UNFORGIVABLE

Releases today! Hope you caught my interview with Chance who you can meet in UNFORGIVABLE, his story will be told in UNREDEEMABLE, and guess what...signed contract this morning for UNHINGED!

Here's a bit about Rand and Nola from UNFORGIVABLE:

Blurb:

One careless shot in the dark, and their lives collided.

Nola Lester finally had enough of life in the city’s fast lane. She needed to get away, get back to her roots, but tending a wounded hunter whose controlling and charismatic personality triggered strange desires threatened Nola’s plans. Perhaps changing her agenda may not be such a bad idea.

Rand Mitchell anticipated relaxing in the secluded mountains he felt drawn to year after year. There would be no rescuing animals or hunting humans, just peace and quiet while searching for clues to explain the mystery of who he is. Instead, Rand found himself ensnared by a sharp-tongued spitfire more than willing to provide a diversion.

Neither of them knew what a deadly creature she held in the palm of her hand.

Unhappiness tightened his jaw, creased his forehead. Nola had seen him angry, being a smartass, and God, the look on his face when he made love… Shit, only sex she told him. It was more, much more, but she would never tell him because Rand wasn’t the kind to settle down. She got the feeling only a little of his time was spent here or surely she would have run into him. The need to give him whatever solace she could for however long became overwhelming. She reached over and brushed his cheek with her fingers. “Sound like wonderful people.”

“Nola…”

“Hmm.”

“I can’t stand it when you touch me.”

She snatched her hand away, folded it in her lap.

“No, no.” Rand grabbed it back, drew fingers to his mouth and sucked them one at a time. “I meant when you touch me it makes me hotter than hell. Feel this.” He moved her hand to the crotch of his jeans where he manipulated her fingers to squeeze and rub his growing hardness.

Nola’s toes tingled with excitement. “You said…”

“…it wouldn’t happen again.” He ripped the sheet away. “Don’t hide from me.” Dragging her over to straddle his lap, Rand kissed her lips softly before peering at her. “Just sex, right? Lean back.” He let her butt slip between his thighs onto the mattress and he got on his knees between her legs. “One more time.”

* * *

Hope you enjoyed the excerpt!

Growl and roar-it’s okay to let the beast out.-J. Hali Steele

Blog blahs...

I have them when it comes to my own blog. By the time I finish thinking about new stuff and posting at Paranormal Romantics and Trampy Vamps - I'm out of ideas! What to do here...hmmm! Okay. How'd you like to see my refreshed book trailer for A Panther's Flight? It's all I got in me today and the release date for Fane and Edy's story is fast approaching. It will be available October 16th from Eirelander Publishing. This was one of the first trailers I did, and guess what - I still like it. In all of its rudimentary splendor, it said what I wanted to say. Sometimes it's good to return to the beginning and get put back on the right path. Since making it, I had a computer meltdown, so I needed to go into my backup files to find the pictures. Didn't want to have to buy them all over again. Well, here it is, nice, new and shiny all over - A Panther's Flight... And don't forget: Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out.-J. Hali Steele

CONTEST is closed

The WINNERS are... Commenting: Mindy Yahoo Group: Gayle FurFriends: Caffey Special: Tamsyn I've contacted each person by email with instructions to claim prize. For those who joined the Yahoo Group, I look forward to having a great time. Thanks to everyone who participated - it was fun. Joann Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out.-J. Hali Steele

CONTEST for release day!

HOT TIN ROOF will be released Friday. I'm holding a contest and will be giving away a Kind (green) or Purple P Rose (purple) t-shirt or one of my eBooks. To automatically be entered in the contest, visit http://www.paranormalromantics.blogspot.com/ Friday and leave a comment and email address so I can reach you. PART TWO: The names of my 4 furfriends have been scattered throughout my website http://www.sovereignkind.com/ (orange is the color of the day-HINT!) To win a special prize of a shirt and eBook, leave the name of all four of my cats along with your email address. PART THREE: I have a Yahoo!Group that I'd like to use as a posting place. To do this effectively - I NEED MEMBERS. While looking for furry names (in orange), click on the JOIN NOW button on any web page beginning TODAY. Your name will be entered in a separate drawing for the shirt or eBook of your choice. Yes! leaving a comment, naming my cats AND joining the group gives you THREE chances to win!! The drawing will take place at noon on Saturday, August 29th. Winners will be listed on my website's Favorite Places page and I'll contact you by email to get your choice of shirt and/or eBook. You can buy HOT TIN ROOF here: http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1221 Hope to see you there!

Remember: Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out.-J. Hali Steele

A Thousand Words to Say...

I'm done. For now anyway.

With an edit that was tougher than most. Yes, my character agreed to let me change her a little, with her mother's help. Then I moved on.

Actually 1,476 words penned to the start of a new short I'm working on as a follow-up (I hope) to HOT TIN ROOF. I think it's going okay - considering I cried on the first page! Damn, that was rough.

I think you'll figure out who it's about if you read HOT TIN ROOF. It will be available this Friday at: http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1221

I'm done. For now anyway.

Ready, set - GO!

Getting ready for a new release. How many days now? Seventeen. The questions I ask myself are: -Have I promoed enough -Contest: yes or no -Interviews set up -Blog ready -Excerpts prepared -Video trailer ...and the list goes on and on. I've made some decisions on promotion, but much more needs to be done. Here's my problem - I don't have a cover yet! Without it, I'm totally NOT ready. I need to see it. Know that it's what I wanted. It'll become my new desktop and I'll gaze at it every damn day. Hopefully, loving it as much as I did the story, the characters. Somehow, having the cover makes it "real" for me. I like to show it off. I'll post it on Facebook, Myspace, my blogs. I'll redo the trailer and add it in. It will go on my website. My friends and family, my fans - everyone gets an email with my new cover attached. Hell, that covers my whole promotion scheme. LOL Then the hard part comes. Waiting to see how sales go. You know, I've always said, "if one person reads a story I wrote, and likes it - I've done my job." I still feel that way. HOT TIN ROOF coming August 28th from Changeling Press. I'm almost ready... Remember: Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out.-J. Hali Steele

Video Trailers

Do they help with book sales? Does anyone know of a study done on this? And does it really matter? I'll be blogging at www.paranormalromantics.blogspot.com about this tomorrow, so stop by and let me know what you think. Here's my latest:

SCREWED was Reviewed and Archangels Fly

SCREWED received 4 1/2 CHERRIES! This is a funny take on the erotica genre, but there’s also a good story, too. J. Hali Steele uses names and characterizations typical to the genre, but the substance of the story makes this work worth the time. - Tiger Lily. See more review at Whipped Cream Erotica Now for the Angels: They will take flight. I've signed a contract with Ellora's Cave and I'm looking at a series. This couldn't make me happier. I have a great love affair going with these guys and one I hope will satisfy my readers. They're sexy, bold and the bad boys of heaven. Stay tuned for more. Remember: Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out.-J. Hali Steele

I got Screwed...

on a shirt and it's so cool! Stefanie at Image Is Everything did a fantastic job. I can't wait to wear it next week.

Also, I may have some good news regarding a contract when I get back from RWA in DC. My fingers, toes and eyes are crossed!

I'll let you know as soon as I know if pulling out the champagne is warranted.

Bye for now.